


Unwarranted

by okaywhateverokayyes



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Gen, Mention of Adam Ezzari, Mention of Elias Bakkoush, Mention of Mikael Boukhal, Mention of Mutasim Tatouti, Mention of Noora Amalie Saetre, Minor season 4 spoilers, Other, Post Youtube Clip Week 8, Yousana
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-08 18:40:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11087628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okaywhateverokayyes/pseuds/okaywhateverokayyes
Summary: “You usually throw punches at people?” Yousef asks dryly.“Not usually. I thought I could better cover, for sure.” Isak’s tone is riddled with sarcasm.





	Unwarranted

**Author's Note:**

> This happens post-8.1 clip, if we consider the YT clip from the Balloon Squad Boys (Hei Briskeby, titled 'Nynne Challange'; Released June 3, 2017)

“You don’t have to,” Sana sways side to side as she motions with her hands of their vicinity, “walk me home, Isak.”

Isak does a quick jump, not too high off of the ground. He struts with his arms wide out, bent and imitates a fluctuating motion like a puppet, his body stagnant as he let his hands swing.

It’s momentary but once Sana chuckles, he drops the act. He picks up his pace as he steps to her side, them two walking in sync. Left foot first, then right. Left. Right. Left. Right.

Sana pauses briefly before shifting her leg until she’s right foot first, Isak not noticing the change in direction.

“That’s what best buds do, Sana,” He’s mocking as he nudges her arm.

Sana nudges back, both of them extending their hands out against each other before Sana swipes it against the brisk of Isak’s jaw.

“Oops.” She’s swift as she retracts her hand.

Isak shrugs, “Ikke svette den. Don’t _sweat it_ ,” he drops his voice, sounding more indifferent than he could possibly ever be.

It’s probably meant to be suave but it sounds like he hasn’t had enough water to consume.

It’s not that long of a walk. Or, maybe it’s the fact that each of them are so absorbed by the silence, which doesn’t unsettle either of them, that they are able to walk blocks on out without feeling as if any time had passed.

She notices the gravel stone that appears a yard out, knows that her house is a corner away.

"How's Ramadan?"

Sana itches behind her neck, her ears perking as she's asked.

She doesn't remember the last time her friends asked her that.

"Really good," she answers, turning to face him, "I'm good."

Isak dips his head, throws in a smoldering grin before he looks away.

He's waving his hands at his sides, as if the very notion of being still is elusive.

“So your brother,” Isak murmurs, “And his friends, Yousef, Mikael-“

His delay causes Sana to supply the other two names, “Adam and Mutta.”

Isak nods, “-right. So what- do they make videos?”

Sana tilts her head, “You’ve seen them all?”

Isak shakes his head, “Nah. Just that _one_ you linked me,” he admits, “ _Hei Briskeby_ “, he tests the words, “-I’ve heard about them, though. Kind of popular at Nissen, hm?”

“I guess,” she’s not sure as she answers, “Why?”

Isak chuckles beside her.

“I was going to ask _you_ why they make them.”

Sana doesn’t skip a beat as she responds with, “Cause they’re bored?” Which, it might not be considering how frequently they upload videos, “They just like to, I guess. I mean, they all get to hang out and act-“ it’s hard to find a word, “not like adults.”

“They’re not that _old_.” Isak counters with.

Sana shrugs, “Well, they’re not thirteen either.”

“Are you judging them, Sana Bakkoush?” Isak gasps.

Sana wonders it’s physically possible to have her eyes fall out of her sockets from the number of times she’s spent rolling her eyes in the entire time that they’ve hung out.

“ _No_ ,” she feels silly having to even refute it, “I just don’t get why they do it.”

Isak nods.

The flippant silence falls over them, once again.

Sana pulls at the string of her bag, clutching on as they turn the corner. She drops her gaze to the pavement, notices the swarm of dust spread across under her shoes.

It’s almost daint if it weren’t for the fact that it was insanely bright outside.

“Like you said,” Sana glances up as Isak speaks up, “They like it. That’s good. To have something to do, you know?”

Sana grips his shoulder, gives him a tight squeeze.

“Yep,” she agrees,  “Even though they are being complete idiots.”

Isak snorts, “You’ve met Magnus, right?” He adjusts his snapback, “And Mahdi, _Jonas_ -“

“Can’t even compete,” Sana interrupts, “You have to see the rest of the videos, then.”

Isak stops to face her, Sana ceasing in front of him.

“I guess I do.” He agrees, throwing on a smoldering smile. It reaches his eyes, his pupils emanating a warmth that causes Sana to jab him playfully before she withdraws her hand, altogether.

Her back is to the steps leading to her building, as she points at the platform below.

“This is where we must bid each other farewell, _best bud_ ,” She feigns a bow as she takes retreating steps.

Isak glances upwards, shielding his eyes with his flattened palm. He wears a thin small, so faint that Sana almost misses it. As he gravitates his eyes to look at her, his smile falters. It’s when he parses his lips into a flat line, Sana stops walking.

It’s only then that she realizes, Isak’s not looking at her. If anything, it’s as if he’s looking _beyond_ her.

Sana shifts the strap of her bag as she whisks on the heel of her foot, turning ever so swiftly only to halt hastily as those familiar brown hue pierce into her own eyes. The fringed brows are as are as coarse as usual, a distance so trivial from each other, if he was to crease his forehead, they would create this arc. The informal blackish leather varsity jacket and a white shirt underneath. He’s wearing a black snapback, similar to Isak’s, except his is form fitting and his hair, other than the two strands falling faintly on either side of his face, are kept underneath.

“Hi.”

Sana looks to her side, watches as Isak shifts in his spot before turning to look at her.

She wavers her eyes frantically, hopes she’s able to convey the fact that one, she didn’t know _he’d_ be here. Or her brother. Any of them. And two, if Isak needs to go, he should _go_. _She’s fine,_ her door was right _there_. She swivels towards the paved steps, hopes he gets it.

Isak  drops his gaze, whisks his lips in a sheepish circle before turning to face Yousef.

“We haven’t been _properly_ introduced,” Isak extends his hand out, “Isak Valtersen.”

Yousef hesitates, eyes towards Sana’s direction. She senses his watchful glare and if she’s being completely honest, the sidewalk on the other side of the street looks particularly clean and newly set.

“Yousef,” He reaches out, meets Isak’s hand, “Yousef Acar.” His voice is quiet, distant in fact-but as she struggles to face him, she knows that _that’s_ a lie.

“Sorry about the other-“

“ _Ikke svette Den_ ,” Isak groans, “That day was-I mean, it happens.”

Yousef doesn’t skip a beat as he dryly asks, “You usually throw punches at people?” void of any malice.

“Not usually. I thought I could better cover, for sure.” Isak’s tone is riddled with sarcasm.

Sana rolls her eyes, knows that they can’t see it.

“ _Sana_ ,” Isak calls out, as she presses the creases in her sleeves, “ _Sana_.” This time, he’s closer, his face protruding in her peripheral vision. He has his snapback lurching forward, his hair that was stuffed underneath had begun to shift outwards.

“Hm.” She ponders, crossing her hands swiftly across her chest as she turns to face him.

Isak creases his forehead, “ _Hm?_ ” He repeats, “What, are you looking at?” He turns to gaze at what she had been looking at earlier, making an extra effort to concentrate as he draws his brows inwards.

It’s almost thoughtful that Sana forgets that it was her attempt of avoiding the other person in their vicinity.

“Nothing,” she coughs into her sleeve as she replies, “Thanks for uh-“ she’s slow as she turns towards the front door, her back towards _him_ , “you know,” she flails her palms out, “even though I didn’t ask you to,” she has to add, “But, thanks.”

She points at the front steps, gives Isak a quick smile before she takes the first couple of strides. Her legs aren’t long and she knows that her pace is faster than her fimble feet could handle. That should have been the first indication to slow down but she’s stubborn. Something she doesn’t admit out aloud, especially when she considers it to be her persistence and not the other, usually, negatively connotated word.

Sana knows in the back of her mind, as her subconscious goes into a haywire, screaming _slow down, Sana Bakkoush, you can avoid this miserable fall-_

Only for her to kneel as she comes tumbling down.

But she doesn’t get very close to the ground-not even remotely. She’s clenched her eyes shut, waits for the impact but instead, there’s pressure bearing down into her upper arms. She blinks fast as she glances to her sides, notices two hands gripping her in either direction.

Isak on her right.

Yousef, on her left.

 _Insha’allah_.

She brushes off both their gestures as she finds her footing. When they both step back, she’s quietly thankful that neither of them put up a struggle to help her up. Not that she needed it. Not that she wasn’t capable of standing on her two feet. Sure, she’s slightly off balance but as she glared in Isak’s direction, Yousef’s hand in her periphery, she wishes she’d have rather fallen.

The touch is brief but it’s lasting.

Isak’s, she’s forgotten immediately.

The blood in her left hand starts to pulsate until the throbbing reaches her eardrums. It’s only then that she realizes how fast she starts to breathe-inhale, exhale, inhale-one after another, without a moment to spare.

“Sana, Sana, Sana,” Isak tsks wistfully as he slides his hands behind his back, an innocuous smile playing on his lips, “Two left feet?”

She snorts, something she’s unable to help as it escapes her nostrils, waving off his snide.

And for a brief time, she forgets.

She forgets that her cheeks ache with a throb that she knows it must mean that they are a crimson hue that is harsh against her pale skin. She darts her eyes when it dawns upon her that if he’d just look at her, he would just _know_.

Sana struggles as she points back at the building, this time pragmatic as she takes one step, before taking another-

“I’m gonna go-“ she says it fast, clamps her mouth shut when she starts to stammer. She doesn’t wait for Isak to respond before she’s darting up the steps-

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

She skips one over.

Sana extends her hand out to slide the key into the slit, turns and twists, until a familiar click sound richochets off of her eardrums. She pulls the key out, slides the chain into her free hand, goes to grab the hatch and has to halt nimbly when _his_ hands grab hold of the knob.

Sana gasps so harshly, Yousef lowers his head in an unnerving manner. He sways his head, his eyes wavering all over the place. She avoids it to the best of her ability but she’s not blind to how fast they move.

“Sorry.” He offers, voice so faint and familiar, Sana clutches onto her bagpack strap, a little bit tighter.

 _Insha’allah_.

_Insha’allah._

**_Insha’allah_.**

She continues to mutter under her breath, wraps her free hand around her chest as she glares down at her feet.

She doesn’t know what she prays for-maybe for Yousef to not talk to her-

She prays that he doesn’t stop her to tell her about _them_ -about Noora-

She hopes that he’d stop apologizing-because it gives him another reason to speak to her-

And as much as she might want to-

Talk, that is-

She wonders how many more times she can feel that suffocating twinge.

 _Not that many_.

Sana sees a crevice between the frame of the door and the floor, wraps her fingers around the metal door and tugs on it. It’s quick, and it’s harsh-Yousef steps back without hesitation-

She’s not sure what she hopes for, but when the sound of the door clicks behind her, she has to clutch onto her chest when an intense hollow pit in her throat renders her breathless.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you have any prompts!
> 
> Hit me up on tumblr: okaywhateverokayyes


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